


Questing for a Different Kind of Adventure

by PercyVQuinnIV



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Brothels, D&D, DNDecember, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Dungeons & Dragons Character Backstory, Dungeons & Dragons References, Gangbang, Group Sex, Half-orc, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Original Player Characters, Rise of Tiamat - Freeform, Sexual Inexperience, Tiefling Biology, Tieflings, Young Bard, chaotic gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28421718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PercyVQuinnIV/pseuds/PercyVQuinnIV
Summary: Percy leaves his trading caravan to go on an expedition of his own: finding a brothel at the heart of the city.Excerpt: Percy tried to relax -living in the castle all his life had conditioned him to be rather alert when he was engaging in any romantic escapades- and turned his attention back to his lover.Then a thump echoed on the wall and Percy froze reflexively. Trosk chuckled.“It gets a little noisy here, nothing to worry about. Actually…” a wicked glint appeared in his eye, “I think those are my friends, want to meet them?”“I- Uhm-” Percy stammered. All his instincts as a lord told him to hide, but the heat between his legs and a head full of liquor had very different ideas. Screw it, he thought, he was in a city far from his home, technically he’d left his lordship’s responsibilities at the door. He nodded.
Kudos: 3





	Questing for a Different Kind of Adventure

Percy strode down one alleyway after another, trying to look like he belonged in this dingy part of the city. He was pretty sure he wasn’t lost, though it’s not like you could get concrete directions to places like the Phoenix. His search was based on hearsay, and now he’d spent the last hour or so traversing the labyrinthine corridors of Alasdair, hoping he was getting closer to his prize instead of farther from it. A creeping panic urged him forward in his search. The trading caravan he’d come in on left that night. He’d somehow managed to procrastinate until the last day of his trip before he’d gotten around to searching for the infamous pleasure house in the heart of the city. Now he may have to leave before he truly found it. He rounded yet another corner- and nearly collided with a large, scarred half-orc, scowling at him from his post next to a red door nestled in the wall. Apologizing, Percy retreated several steps and took a better look at where he was. Red door, in the center of Alasdair’s maze of alleyways after twelve lefts and two- or, three?- rights. This seemed to be the place. The bouncer still scowled at him and Percy kicked himself for not making a better first impression.  
Still, I’m not leaving, he thought to himself, his false bravado cracking a bit even in his head, I’m here to get laid, aren’t I? There weren’t too many brothels that catered to his tastes in this part of the world, and it had taken him a good long while to find this one. He’d fantasized about this for months, wriggled the secret password out of some fellow tradesmen at the local taverns, volunteered to oversee a trading voyage from his kingdom, all to stand in front of this red door. And now, finally, he was here.  
So why was he so nervous?  
He stepped up to the muscled guard and cleared his throat.  
“The phoenix flies through sunset skies,” gods, he hoped this little piece of poetry was still the password, otherwise he was about to feel absolutely ridiculous. A small voice in the back of his head almost hoped it wasn’t the right phrase. Then he’d have no choice but to turn back, leave this commoner’s den of ill repute without a chance of ruining his family’s reputation. But the bouncer stepped back and kicked at the door, swinging it open.  
“In you go,” he grunted.  
Percy ducked under the man’s arm and through the dark entrance. Inside, illuminated in warm lamplight, was a bar area framed by plush couches and low tables. Hazy smoke from the hookahs drifted in the air, mingling in a fragrant cloud. There were only a few patrons there on this lazy afternoon, and the chatter was low. Beyond that was a hallway that led, presumably, to the escorts’ rooms. Percy craned his neck to see more of that hallway, and its inhabitants, but a harsh -ahem- disrupted his thoughts. He looked to his right, and found a desk there. Behind it, a human in her mid-40s scrutinized him over a book.  
“Did my man at the door let you in?” the madam asked, raising an eyebrow, “How old are you, kid? 18?”  
“19,” Percy said indignantly.  
“Haven’t seen you around before,” she eyed him suspiciously, “You with the dock patrol?”  
“Silvertone Company, actually,” he shrugged, “I came in with the caravan.” How he got there was at least true, though he wasn’t an employee of Silvertone. But no one needed to know that as a lord he actually owned the entire caravan.  
“Hmm, okay,” the madam grabbed a quill pen and a large book, “What’s your name?”  
“P- Paris,” he lied, “Of Thaymer.”  
“Sure it is,” she continued to scrawl her records without looking up, “And what are you looking for, Paris? Most of my gals are booked til 3.”  
“Oh I uh- I’m not- looking for a girl,” Percy’s tail tucked behind his leg in an involuntary show of self-consciousness. The madam looked up, her expression softened a little.  
“I see. You traveled a ways for this, yeah? Is this the first time you’ve been to an establishment like mine?”  
“Yes…?” the tiefling answered with the squeak of someone who was about to crawl out of his own skin with embarrassment.  
“I’m gonna set you up with Trosk, then,” she crossed something off in her calendar, “He’s a good guy.” And next time you come to one of these, have a fake name ready, okay? Not everyone is so unscrupulous.”  
“Yes Ma’am, thank you Ma’am,” Percy said in a small voice.  
“Ha! So polite. Tell the barkeep to get you a drink on me, okay kid? You’ll need it.”  
***  
Percy sat at the bar idly swirling a glass of something he hadn’t tried before -it was sweeter than ale but much stronger than wine- and tried not to let his nerves get the better of him. He concentrated on the sweet smoke of the hookahs, the low conversation, and ignored the mounting wave of butterflies in his stomach. Occasionally he stole a glance at the various escorts and their customers coming and going from the hallway. They all seemed so relaxed, so confident.  
“You must be Paris?”  
Percy looked up from his glass to see his entertainment for the afternoon, and his ears flattened. The man was huge, a muscular half-orc of almost seven feet. At only 5’ 6” (not counting his horns), Percy barely came up to the man’s chest.  
“I’m Trosk,” the escort grinned, “Shall we?”  
Percy nodded, then downed the rest of his glass and followed him. They headed to the back rooms and wound through a couple dim hallways before stopping at one of the doors. With a playful bow, Trosk held it open for his guest and they stepped inside. It was warmly lit, comfortable but simple. A washbasin stood in the corner, next to a small stand that held the essentials for Trosk’s work- liquor, fresh towels, lubricants, lotions, and piles of other supplies for which Percy couldn’t quite work out the use. The centerpiece of the room was a huge bed.  
“So uh- how do we do this?” he asked, looking around.  
“A good start is undressing,” Trosk winked as he closed the door.  
“Right,” Percy unbuttoned his shirt, the rough fabric of a merchant’s garments reminding him of how unfamiliar he was with any of this. His usual lord’s robes had been swapped out to better blend in with the caravan and this part of the city, but he wondered if the ill-fitting disguise only served to enhance how awkward he was, how little he was suited to this situation.  
If Trosk noticed, he didn’t say anything as he crossed the room to stand behind him, and began helping him disrobe. Slowly he peeled the layers off and ran his deft hands down Percy’s bare violet chest. It was impossible not to melt in his arms, and the tiefling let his self-awareness slide off along with his shirt. Percy leaned against him, dwarfed against the massive half-orc. He smelled good, like moss and musk and whiskey. One hand tilted Percy’s chin up for a kiss, the other began to unfasten the ties on his pants.  
“Am I your first?” Trosk rumbled into the tiefling’s ear.  
“Th-third,” Percy shivered as the man’s tongue met his neck, “Or second, I guess? Second if you’re going to- you know, fuck me.”  
Trosk chuckled. “That’s up to you. I’m here to make sure you feel good. And if there’s ever anything you don’t like, just tell me to stop, okay? I won’t be offended.”  
Percy let himself relax into the half-orc’s embrace.  
“Okay,” he murmured.  
Heat between his legs rose as Trosk’s hands moved over him, loosing the ties and dropping the clothing at Percy’s feet. The tiefling felt himself catch fire as the larger man held him against his chest, running his hands and tongue over sensitive skin.  
“Do you want to go to the bed?” he whispered in his ear, and without hesitation Percy answered, yes.  
The half-orc led him there and laid him down, then climbed in himself and loomed over his small client. Percy squirmed beneath his skilled hands, enjoying the gentle weight of him. Trosk’s lips met his neck, navel and continued down, teasing him. Percy was growing to his full length, surprisingly large for a man of his stature, and Trosk kissed the base of him-  
The intimate moment was interrupted suddenly as a commotion in the hall caught Percy’s attention, and his ears perked upwards along with the volume. The brothel was certainly lively, but the hearty laughter that echoed down the corridor was a bit louder than any Percy had heard so far. He realized it was much closer than any of the other sounds he’d heard. This must be one of the escorts and his customer. Percy tried to relax -living in the castle all his life had conditioned him to be rather alert when he was engaging in any romantic escapades- and turned his attention back to his lover.  
Then a thump echoed on the wall and Percy froze reflexively. Trosk chuckled.  
“It gets a little noisy here, nothing to worry about. Actually…” a wicked glint appeared in his eye, “I think those are my friends, want to meet them?”  
“Wha-?” Percy’s face flushed, but Trosk’s attention was focused on his client’s twitching cock.  
“Mmm, you like that idea huh? Would you like me to invite them in?”  
“I- Uhm-” Percy stammered, surprised at how much he did like the idea. All his instincts as a lord told him to hide, but his cock and a head full of liquor had very different ideas. Screw it, he thought, he was in a city far from his home, technically he’d left his lordship’s responsibilities at the door of the Phoenix.  
“Sure?” The hesitation in his voice was not matched by his growing erection.  
“Hmm… I think that’s a resounding yes,” Trosk chuckled, running his tongue over the younger man’s shaft. He drowned out Percy’s moans as he raised his voice to a shout.  
“HEY, Vance! Merek! C’mere!”  
The banging on the wall stopped for a second and devolved into a pair of racious giggles. Then a rattle, footsteps, and the creak of the door, and the occupants of Trosk’s bed turned to find a tall, lithe tiefling with crimson skin and horns that ran around his head in a goat-like circlet. Beside him was a smirking half-elf, brunette and stocky, the ties of his shirt hanging loose as if it had just been hastily thrown on.  
“Welllll, what do you have there?” the tiefling grinned. Percy gave a shy half-wave from the bed.  
“Vance, this is Paris,” Trosk replied, “He’s new at this sort of thing. Would you boys want to help me make sure he enjoys himself?”  
“We were just about to have some fun ourselves,” the half-elf, apparently Merek, nodded, “I don’t have another appointment for a while.”  
Vance shut the door behind him and the two came forward. Vance was slender, like a dancer or a cheetah; he nearly stalked to the bed. Merek strode, oozing confidence as he stripped his shirt off and discarded it on the floor, useless. Both men were deeply handsome, Percy was almost in awe of their beauty.  
“Aren’t you a cute little thing?” Vance purred, his tail twitched mischievously as he leaned over to watch Trosk turn back to teasing the young tiefling.  
Percy flushed as the half-orc’s hot breath and and nimble hands moved over him. He was on display as he grew more aroused under Trosk, and these new mens’ appreciative gazes bored into him.  
“Hnngh- thank you.”  
“Ooh how delightful, he’s already hard and you’ve just started touching him Trosk! He’s going to be so sensitive.”  
“Mmhmm,” Trosk chuckled and slid up on the bed, making room for Merek as he climbed in, “We’re going to have fun with him.”  
He guided Percy’s chin up and kissed him again. His tongue flickered out and parted Percy’s lips gently, before he pulled back a bit to look his client in the eye.  
“You know, you kiss like a noble,” the half-orc whispered, “All proper, keeping your lips closed. Passion wasn’t meant to be polite, eh? Kiss me deeper.”  
Before Percy could attempt to clumsily deny his heritage, Trosk was at his lips again, this time grabbing the back of the tiefling’s head and holding him firmly in place as he stuck his tongue down his throat. Percy moaned in surprise and reciprocated, tasting himself on the man as they exchanged oxygen. The tiefling could feel his heart pounding, though whether it was from arousal or Trosk’s unintentional discovery he wasn’t quite sure.  
He heard Vance and Merek in the background cooing their praise, and felt the weight of the bed shift as Merek moved. Then suddenly, something warm and slick enveloped him, sending electric arousal shooting through his body. Percy looked down and saw Merek happily knelt over him, sucking his cock. The man was talented, and Percy felt like he was going to explode if the half-elf stayed there much longer.  
“Hey!” Percy moved to push the man off of him, but Trosk caught his hands above his head, lightly holding him down. Instinctively, Percy pulled away but the big man refused to move. He clutched the tiefling’s wrists tightly, but not painfully, daring him to deny their pleasure.  
“Shh, stop fighting. Stop thinking too hard,” Trosk rumbled in Percy’s ear.  
Percy whined and looked down at Merek, who winked, then went back to deep-throating him. Percy let out an agonized moan.  
“F- feels too good.”  
“Do you want us to stop?” Trosk asked, his voice a soothing anchor that cut through the sensory overload the boy was experiencing.  
“Nnngh- Noooo that would be worse!”  
“Mm, true,” Trosk chuckled, “In that case, tell me how he feels huh? How does his tongue feel as it runs over your head? How does your shaft feel, rammed down his tight, wet throat?”  
“S-so good,” Percy gasped.  
“Is he sucking?”  
“I can’t tel- _nnngh._ Yes, now he is.”  
Percy wanted all of himself inside Merek’s mouth. His inhibitions fell away as he strained to push himself further in, begging the men for release with his body.  
“Oh, therrre we go,” Trosk murmured his encouragement, “Thrust your hips, give us a show- it feels good right?”  
“He looks good,” Vance leaned against the foot of the bed and ran his hand idly over himself through his pants. He’d lost his shirt somewhere in the last few minutes, and the black leather of his trousers sat low on his hips, framing the v-shape of his lower abs.  
A moan was all Percy could respond with, his eyes rolling back and his body taut with the promise of release.  
“Are you going to cum for us?”  
“Y-Yes.”  
“Good… Hey Merek- stop.”  
Percy screamed as the half-elf pulled away from his cock, leaving a string of pre-cum that trailed after his lips. The tiefling twisted against Trosk’s strong hold, begging to be allowed to put his hands on himself.  
“Not so fast,” the escort purred, “We have to make sure you last long enough to enjoy this. I’ll let you go, but you have to promise to get on your knees, and don’t you dare touch yourself, okay?”  
“I can’t-” Percy began, but relented as he felt Trosk’s hands squeeze him, “ _Nngh_ \- fine.”  
Trosk let go and began rummaging around in the nightstand. Percy obediently got to his knees, kneeling on all fours on the bed. His cock absolutely ached with how badly he wanted relief, but he managed to let it twitch helplessly in the air while Merek and Vance chuckled.  
“Good boy, at least you can still follow orders,” Vance snickered, “I wasn’t sure if Merek had sucked your brain out from between your legs. He’s too good sometimes, hmm Merek?”  
Vance pulled the half-elf’s hair as Percy flushed red.  
“Now then,” Trosk knelt behind Percy and placed one of his palms on the tiefling’s thigh, “If you want me to fuck you, I’m going to have to get you ready for me. Do not touch your cock, alright?”  
“...Yessir.”  
“Good boy,” Trosk planted a kiss on his shoulder, then reached for a glass vial on the cabinet next to the bed. He dipped into it, and when his hands came out his fingers glistened with lubricant. He held it in front of the small tiefling, letting him see. Percy bit his lip just looking at the half-orc’s thick fingers, knowing they were about to slide into him. A swell of trepidation flooded him from the last time someone was inside him, but he pushed those thoughts to the side. He wanted this, he reminded himself, looking down at his twitching cock and thinking of all the nights he’d fantasized about being penetrated in this very brothel.  
“You said I’m your second,” Trosk purred in his ear, a low whisper that was just enough for Percy to hear. This was a moment for just the two of them. “I’m going to go very slowly, one at a time. If anything hurts, or if you need me to adjust, you need to let me know, okay?”  
Percy nodded, “Okay.”  
Trosk kissed him lightly on the cheek, then slid back to his original position.  
“Now you can touch yourself,” he said, and circled a finger around Percy’s entrance. Percy moaned and wrapped his slim fingers around himself, stroking slowly as Trosk played with him.  
“Ooh, I want to see,” Vance stalked to the other end of the bed and came to watch over Trosk’s shoulder, “Is he nice and tight?”  
“Gods, yes he is,” Trosk pushed into the tiefling, hearing another pleasured moan as he did so, “I’m really going to have to work to get him ready to take my cock.”  
“You really are, look at that cute little hole. Why it’s going to be a miracle if you ever get your cock in there, Trosk.”  
His fingers were warm, and slick with lubricant, and he slid into Percy firmly but slowly. The younger man bit his lip as he felt the digit slide inside him.  
“Look at how flustered he is, and after only one finger,” Merek lounged on the bed, the bulge in his pants showing just how much he was enjoying the sight.  
“We haven’t tested your mouth yet, have we?” Vance moved towards Percy’s front, stroking himself again,“That’s a grave oversight on my part. Do you want this in your mouth, sweetheart?”  
Percy nodded eagerly, so Vance undid the ties on his pants and pulled out his cock. He was thick, his shaft ridged and bulging with his demonic heritage. Percy may have drooled slightly as he opened his mouth to take it. Vance grabbed him by the hair and guided him on.  
“Oooooh, boys, his mouth is tight too,” Vance sighed as he felt the younger man envelope him. He was huge, Percy had to relax his throat and let the tiefling pump into him.  
“Professional advice, my dear- moan on it. Let me feel how excited you are to take me.”  
Percy did so and felt Vance’s nails dig into his scalp.  
“ _Fuuuh_ -“ a barely audible gasp escaped Vance’s lips, “You’re very talented for such a beginner.”  
Percy’s moans pitched up into a squeak as Trosk slid his second finger inside of him. The escort curled his fingers back and forth, continuing in his quest to get his client ready. Percy redoubled his focus on Vance, sucking and bobbing along him faster. His senses were so overwhelmed with the two men that he left off stroking himself. His own cock twitched in mid-air as he serviced them.  
“Bahamut’s _beard_ , that’s hot,” Merek moaned and slid off his pants, then crawled next to Percy and knelt beside him. Percy could just make out the man in his periphery, naked and on all fours, whining for his boyfriend’s cock. He was magnificent. Apparently Vance thought so too, because he grinned, petting the half-elf’s hair.  
“Aww, someone doesn’t want to share hmm? Very well- both of you, lick me.”  
The men exchanged looks over Vance’s cock, then each took a side. Vance moaned approvingly as their tongues moved along him. Merek seemed to be an experienced bottom, and he worshipped Vance’s cock, kissing it at the base and tracing each ridge until he came to its crimson point, slick with pre-cum, and sucked him tenderly. Percy felt himself throb with arousal from just watching. Merek winked and sat back,expectantly looking at him.  
“Now you try.”  
Percy tried to copy Merek’s motions, tracing the ridges like the half-elf had. He knew he should be self-conscious at how his inexperience must be showing. His motions weren’t as smooth as Merek’s, nor was his tongue quite as deft, but he quivered with lust, too horny to care. The others could tell, they murmured and cooed over his eagerness.  
“Ohh, that’s a good show,” Trosk chuckled, and slid the third finger in. Percy groaned as he felt himself stretched, pushed to a new limit. He knew this wasn’t even close to what the half-orc’s cock would feel like, and he made himself ride Trosk’s fingers until his opening relaxed around the man. Dimly he realized somewhere in his lusty haze that he’d let go of his cock, so distracted with feeling these men inside him that pleasuring himself was unnecessary. He continued copying Merek’s motions, but Trosk’s thrusting was getting more insistent, widening him and making his entrance ache in the best way. The tiefling ended up getting distracted, bracing himself on all fours and moaning as he rode the half-orc’s fingers. Vance and Merek didn’t seem to mind though. They reveled in one another as Trosk made sure his client was relaxed and able to take him. Merek and Vance looked on in appreciation as Vance dipped his own fingers into the jar of lubricant and began to ready his boyfriend’s entrance.  
“I think you’re ready,” Trosk finally purred in Percy’s ear, “How do you feel, little one?”  
“I want it,” the smaller man whined. How he would manage to fit any more of Trosk inside him, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he was drowning in a sea of lust and wanted as much of the man as he could take.  
“Alright,” Trosk instructed, “Kneel facing that way.”  
Percy did as he was told, and felt Trosk shift behind him. He glanced over to see the half-orc laying down, with his erection positioned just behind the tiefling. It glistened with lubricant, standing at almost nine inches. Trosk winked.  
“Sit on it.”  
Percy’s legs shook as he eased himself down.  
“ _Nngh… Hah…_ ”  
“Good boy… that’s it, take it at your own pace, little one,” Trosk’s velvety growl guided him as he went. His head nudged at Percy’s entrance, and with a thrust, the half-orc guided it inside. He was much thicker than his fingers had been, and the tiefling squeaked as he yielded to the man.  
“Gods,” Vance reached out and pinched the younger tiefling’s left nipple, squeezing until the purple turned a pale lavender against his own crimson hand, “They’re so fucking cute when they’re this inexperienced.”  
Percy balked at this new sensation, and lost a bit of his control. He slid down the length of Trosk’s erection, and when he stopped shuddering he looked down to see himself fully settled on the escort’s lap. He bucked his hips, thrusting along the half-orc’s shaft. One hand reached up to finally cup his throbbing cock-  
-And was caught by Trosk. An evil chuckle escaped from the man’s lips as he caught both of Percy’s wrists and held him back. The smaller man groaned as his frame was pushed forward, his back held in a helpless arch. His cock throbbed in front of him, useless and swollen with need.  
“Merek,” came the command from over Percy’s shoulder- he could still hear a hint of devilish laughter in the half-orc’s voice, “You can start again. Take your time with him.”  
The half-elf didn’t need a second invitation. He all but dove for Percy’s oversized cock, licking him from the base to the tip before he got him into his mouth and nearly swallowed him. His prey whined and meweld as the sensations began to overload him. Percy moaned as he was stretched and penetrated, writhing on Trosk as Merek licked and sucked his cock. Everything felt too good. He saw Vance start to grin, and sidle up behind Marek. Merek wiggled his own hips in anticipation, begging Vance to take him. The escort slid his black leather pants to the floor, and in one motion buried himself inside his lover. Merek moaned with Percy’s cock still in his mouth and the tiefling suddenly understood Vance’s instructions as the half-elf’s lust vibrated down his shaft.  
Vance locked eyes with him over Merek’s bare back.  
“Let’s put that pretty mouth of yours to good use,” he grinned, sliding his fingers between Percy’s lips. Percy remembered what Trosk had said about kissing and let him in, sucking the man’s fingers the way he’d seen Merek suck his cock.  
“Such a fast learner,” Vance moaned, “That’s very good, keep it up my dear.”  
Unintelligible moans seemed to be the only sounds Percy could make in response, drowning in a sea of sensation and lust. His hips twitched and bucked, with the only motion Trosk had afforded him. His inhibitions were gone, his head was empty save what his senses were telling him. Fingers, lips, cock- his mind catapulted from one sensation to another. Every time he focused on one feeling, a new one would push its way past the others, building his lust up until he felt he would go mad if he didn’t climax.  
No one had taught him to bend to other mens’ wills and still instinctively he knew to ask:  
“May I cum?”  
“Mmm, gods yes, please do,” Trosk’s strong hands braced the small man against his hips as he exploded down Merek’s throat. The half-elf moaned and swallowed every drop, sucking until the young tiefling begged him to stop. This time, Merek obliged.  
For a split-second Percy panicked as he continued to ride the half-orc on shaking knees. He hadn’t been allowed to cum the first time he’d been fucked, and he realized he wasn’t sure how this worked. Did he get off of Trosk now that he was done? Or was he supposed to stay and ride him until he was satisfied? Fortunately, at that moment, with a rumbling groan, the man’s thrusting doubled in speed, and he grabbed the back of Percy’s neck.  
“Do you want my cum inside you?”  
“ _Ungh_ , please?” Percy’s cock twitched with arousal he didn’t realize he was still capable of. The half-orc pumped once, twice, then shuddered hot lust into the small tiefling. Percy’s moans climbed into almost a scream and he gyrated on the bigger man as he took it all.  
Vance was the last among them to cum. Percy and Trosk watched as he grabbed Merek’s throat and pulled him up into a kneeling position, still pumping into the half-elf. Vance bit the man’s neck and stroked his cock, whispering dirty things only audible to the two of them. Merek moaned and thrust inside the tiefling’s hand until he came for him, then patiently rode his boyfriend’s cock, thanking him and praising him until the tiefling unloaded inside him.  
The couple rolled apart and the four of them lay there panting on Trosk’s bed.  
“You did well,” Trosk purred, “You even asked to cum for us. Good boy.”  
“Mmhmm,” Vance echoed, stroking Percy’s hair, “You’re a natural. A natural little love-slave. I can’t wait til you come back to see us.”  
***  
Percy strode to the edge of town where the trading caravan was waiting, _prestidigitating_ himself back in order as he went. The head merchant scowled as his charge returned, muttering something about leaving without him if he’d been much later. Percy took his seat- albeit somewhat gingerly- on the head wagon and went over the itinerary with their guide, dutifully nodding and thanking the man at the right times, and asking all the questions he was expected to ask as the man presiding over their journey. But inwardly, he felt like his very soul was singing. He’d made it to Alasdair, to Trosk and Vance and Merek in the city’s heart. He’d proven to himself that he could have this, that he could take not just one lover but three, and that he could move between the lives of a noble and a commoner, undetected.  
And maybe that would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> If you’re following the chaotic timeline of this account at all, then this story took place pre-campaign, when Percy is 19. He hasn’t managed to get corrupted by the forces of Chaos juuuust yet.


End file.
